


Lean On Me

by HixyStix



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alien Biology, Body Exploration, M/M, Mutual Pining, Species Swap, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HixyStix/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: Sent on a mission into the Unknown Regions, Alexsandr Kallus and Garazeb Orrelios can’t decide if they want to yell at each other or kiss each other.  A mishap with a Jedi artifact finds them in the unique position of understanding each other – each other’s species, that is.  Until they figure out both their feelings and how to get their own bodies back, they’re once more stuck relying on each other to get by.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 26
Kudos: 206





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elleTchj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleTchj/gifts).



“Rakata Prime?” Kallus repeated. “That’s in the Unknown Regions. There’s only one safe path in or out.”

The look Draven gave him said the general was fully aware of those facts. He didn’t deign to respond to Kallus’s protest. “Choose a partner and an astromech to help navigate. You have a week to find the weapons cache that was left for us.”

Kallus stared past Draven at the wall of his office in the Massassi Temple, mind already racing to plan the details of the mission. The logical thing would be to take one of the adult Spectres. He already knew he could work with them and they were experienced when it came to tricky missions.

But which one? Hera could pilot them through the Unknown Regions with skill. Kanan’s Jedi senses might help find the cache quickly. And Zeb…

Well, Zeb was a skilled warrior and would be a boon if they ran into any trouble. But that wasn’t the only reason Kallus wanted to take Zeb with him, if he were being honest with himself.

He wasn’t being honest with himself, not while in a meeting, so he turned his gaze back to Draven. “Yes, sir.”

Draven dismissed him and Kallus wandered out of the temple, silently debating.

He wanted to ask Zeb. Zeb had skills that would be practical on such a mission. In addition, there was the perhaps not so tiny detail that Kallus _wanted_ to spend a week with just Zeb.

Nothing would come of it, Kallus knew. Zeb managed to put up with Kallus, but there was no way the lasat could ever truly enjoy being around him. No way Kallus could ever be forgiven. No chance of anything more than comradeship between them, which was probably for the best because it’d been long years since Kallus felt anything more than mild fondness for another being. He wasn’t even sure that what he felt for Zeb _was_ fondness and not obsession or a strange form of gratitude for being the impetus behind Kallus’s defection.

Kallus shook his head to clear his mind. Looking up, he found himself outside the _Ghost_ ; he’d wandered there on instinct.

The wise thing to do would be to ask Hera or Kanan. There was no emotional confusion with either of them, meaning Kallus could focus on the mission and not have to disentangle the mess of emotions and complicated factors that made up Kallus’s relationship with Zeb.

“Kal?”

The voice came from above. Kallus shielded his eyes from the sun and saw Zeb standing on top of the _Ghost_ , a brush of some sort in his hand. There, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, Zeb made quite the striking image. It was enough that Kallus had to bite his lip to keep from reacting.

“Zeb!” Kallus said, recovering from his momentary lapse. Of _course_ it was Zeb he ran into first. “What are you doing up there?”

Zeb gestured broadly with the brush in his hand and sat down. “Cleaning the deflector shield projectors. What are you doing here? Usually don’t see you out and about in the sunlight.”

“I’m, uh. I’m looking for a volunteer to go on a week-long mission with me.”

Sitting with his feet dangling off the side of the ship, Zeb cocked his head curiously. “What kind of mission?”

“To Rakata Prime in the Unknown Regions for a supply pickup.”

Zeb frowned. “That’s a long way to go for supplies. Takes you close to the Core, too.”

“I know,” Kallus said, trying not to grumble. “Draven’s hoping a two person and one droid team can slip through Imperial Space unnoticed.”

“I’ll check with Hera and see if she can spare me.” Zeb slid off the ship, landing deftly on his toes. “Ezra can finish cleaning. He skipped out the last two times anyway.”

Something inside Kallus went on high alert. “It’s a volunteer mission. Are you sure you want to go?”

“You need a volunteer. I’m volunteering. ‘Nless you don’t want me to,” Zeb said, pausing halfway up the ramp.

“No, no,” Kallus said, too quickly. “I merely didn’t want you to feel as if I was forcing you to tag along.”

Zeb grinned. “Nah. But let’s get one of the base astromechs instead of Chopper.”

Kallus tried to return the smile. “Whatever you say. We do need to leave immediately, however; the sooner the better.”

“Gotcha. Be right back. Oh! If Ezra shows, don’t let him run off again.” Zeb sprinted into the hold, leaping high enough to catch the ladder near the top.

Kallus watched him go and then groaned. A week in a small ship with Zeb? He’d wanted that, but the mission was going to test the limits of Kallus’s control.

Zeb stretched out in the back of the stolen Imperial shuttle, arms over his head and toes pointed as far as they would go.

“Comfortable?” asked Kallus, eyebrows quirked. Next to him in the cockpit, Chopper spun his dome, manipulators waving, blatting something in a sarcastic tone.

Learning binary had never been high on Zeb’s list of things to do, but he’d picked up a little along the way nonetheless. Enough that he knew Chopper had just called him lazy.

Zeb bared his teeth at the droid, wishing – not for the first time – that Hera hadn’t insisted they bring him along instead of a base astromech. He forced himself to focus on Kallus again; not that it was hard for the human to occupy his mind. “We got thirty-six hours of hyperspace travel and the last bit’s gonna be tricky. I figure now is the time to rest.”

 _Rest_ , not _sleep_. Zeb wasn’t sure he’d be able to actually fall asleep with Kallus so close.

Okay, yeah, sure, they’d bunked together right after Atollon, before Kallus was given quarters inside the Temple, but they’d been exhausted. Sleep had been unavoidable.

The situation Zeb found himself in was entirely different from those first few days. For one, Kallus wasn’t beat up and weak from Thrawn’s torture.

For another, Zeb had since had plenty of time to realize his own conflicted feelings towards the man. Kallus had participated in the fall of Lasan. He had tried his best to kill Zeb and his family.

But Kallus was a changed man these days, fully devoted to the Rebellion. His intel, as Fulcrum and as a Rebel, had saved the Spectres nearly as many times as he’d attempted to kill them. Kallus was also a good friend and clever mission partner. And, Zeb found himself thinking, he was quite good-looking for a human.

But as much as Zeb would have liked to explore his options when it came to Kallus, he knew he couldn’t make a move. Kallus had given him no hint that he might like their relationship to be anything but what it was. And for all the work Kallus had put in trying to rid his brain of his Imperial biases and speciesism, Zeb knew some of it had to still be entrenched. 

They could be friends, but nothing more. Zeb accepted that, but it didn’t make things in the small shuttle easier. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that by agreeing to help Kallus, he’d essentially signed himself up for a week of torture.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Kallus said. “Chopper, will you keep an eye on the hyperdrive and wake one of us before the jump ends?”

Annoyingly, the droid whistled an affirmative and turned back to the console.

“Without using your shock prod!” Zeb added, getting a sharp blat in return.

Kallus sat down on the row of seats opposite Zeb. “He’s right, Chopper.”

Chopper made a disappointed noise, followed by an ‘okay’ that Zeb understood.

“Oh, he listens to _you_ ,” Zeb grumbled, looking at Kallus.

“What can I say? We’ve been on good terms since he learned I was Fulcrum.” Kallus shrugged, lying down atop the long bench cushion. He’d positioned himself facing the opposite direction from Zeb, who groaned inwardly. Lying like that, it would be easy for Zeb to get caught staring at Kallus.

Not that he planned on staring. But things happened, sometimes.

Kallus closed his eyes and was asleep in minutes, snoring slightly. Zeb was jealous of his ability to sleep anywhere, anytime, but he wasn’t jealous of how Kallus acquired it: working tirelessly around the clock in the ISB, grabbing ten minutes of sleep when and where he could.

Zeb, on the other hand, tried to close his eyes and sleep, but between the way Chopper was watching him from the cockpit and how entrancing it was to watch Kallus relax and just _breathe_ …

Sleep was not within Zeb’s grasp at the moment. He sighed and forced his eyes up, to stare at the ceiling. 

It was going to be one long hyperspace trip.

Chopper, true to Hera’s word, guided them safely to Rakata Prime, missing all the hyperspace anomalies that made the trip treacherous. It was a blue world, one large ocean dotted with islands and inhospitable rocky outcroppings. The islands, at least, were generally tropical.

Kallus guided the shuttle down, flying over an atoll. Flicking on a sensor, he said, “The weapons cache _ought_ to have a beacon on it. I’m not inspecting every single island here.”

Zeb laughed softly. “You mean you don’t want a beach vacation, Kal?”

Kallus shot him an irritated look, but before he could say anything, the sensor picked up–

“ _Two_ beacons?” Kallus said. “I don’t know anything about a second beacon.”

“Guess we better check them both out?” Zeb said, more of a question than a statement.

“I suppose.” Kallus aimed them toward the closest beacon and sat them down on a larger island, covered in ruins much like Yavin IV. “The beacon is about a kilometer’s walk from here,” he said.

Zeb lowered the ramp and pointed at Chopper. “You stay here. I don’t wanna hafta chase you through the jungle.”

Kallus patted Zeb’s shoulder as he passed, sending a shiver down Zeb’s spine. “Come on, Zeb. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker we can leave.”

Quicker to leave? Did Kallus want to hurry the trip up so he didn’t have to spend time with Zeb? Maybe he should have read more into Kallus’s protests back on Yavin IV.

Sighing, Zeb followed Kallus down the ramp into the muggy jungle air. Unlike Yavin IV, this jungle was _hot_ – enough so that Kallus had shed his ever-present coat and gloves. He kept the blaster and handheld sensor, though, holding it up until it acquired the beacon once more. “There,” he said, pointing off to the left. “It’s that way.”

Kallus set off into the jungle, following what might have once been a trail but was now overrun with vines and low-hanging leaves. Zeb followed as best he could, but kept getting tangled up in the undergrowth that Kallus seemed to practically float over.

They eventually emerged in a clearing in front of what looked to be a temple. Zeb rubbed a hand over an emblem by the door. “The Republic Jedi,” he said, almost reverently. “One of the most famous lasats in the galaxy was a Jedi. Jaro Tapal.”

Kallus hummed a little note of interest while he studied the door. “You know, you’re probably the most famous one right now. _In_ famous, really,” he mused.

Zeb froze. He’d never thought of that. Being among the survivors of Lasan, yes, but well-known? Granted, Chava and Gron had recognized him, but that was from his role on Lasan, not what he’d done since.

“It makes sense the Jedi would have a presence here, probably ancient,” Kallus continued as if he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. “The Rakata were a Force-sensitive race. Died out prior to the Old Republic, but the Jedi predate the Republic as well. It’s logical that they would have had contact with the Rakata. Now, do you think we need the Force to open the door or will brute force do it?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Zeb said, stepping forward. He managed to wedge his claws into a crack in the door and pulled. With a shrill scraping sound, the door slid open just enough that the two men could squeeze inside. Zeb let go of the door, afraid it would shut on him.

It didn’t. Kallus pulled out a glowrod and stepped into the temple. “Seems fine,” he called back to Zeb. “The beacon is definitely in here.”

“Good,” said Zeb in almost a whisper, afraid to disturb anything in the temple, even the dust.

All the way in the back of the temple stood an altar of sorts. The stonework was decorated with all pictograms of all sorts of sentient species: a quick glance showed Zeb Zygerrians and Twi’leks and Hutts and many others.

Sitting on the altar itself was a golden cube, decorated with fine filigree. Zeb recognized it right away and, eschewing his earlier caution, reached to pick it up. 

“No!” Kallus grabbed Zeb’s arm. “Are you insane? There’s no telling what sort of thing that is, but it’s been here for millennia. Somebody left it here for a reason.”

“It’s just a holocron; Kanan had one exactly like it,” grumped Zeb. He didn’t pull his arm back right away, though. Kallus’s fingers in his fur sent another thrill through him.

“Looking ‘exactly like it’ doesn’t necessarily mean they _are_ the same, especially when it comes to the Jedi,” Kallus argued. He looked down at where he’d grabbed Zeb’s arm with what seemed like confusion.

Zeb growled to cover his embarrassment. Jerking his arm back, he said, “You don’t need to tell me everything, Kal. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Kallus asked. “From where I’m standing, you were about to pick up a Jedi artifact we know nothing about.”

Wishing Kallus’s argument came from a place of caring more than of wanting the mission to go well, Zeb scoffed. “I told ya, _it’s a holocron_. It won’t do anything unless yer Force sensitive. I’m not. Are you?”

Kallus stared at him coldly. “If I was, do you think I’d have survived the Empire? I worked with Inquisitors and Darth Vader and I believe they would have noticed.”

“Great to hear it. Let’s take this thing back to Kanan an’ Ezra.” 

“Touching it _without_ a Jedi present is idiotic, Zeb. Don’t you see that?” Kallus shook his head, causing strands of hair to fall in his face.

Zeb was seeing that the longer the conversation went on, the more certain he was that Kallus did not and would never return his affections. The thought made frustration and disappointment well up inside him, erupting as anger. “So I’m an idiot now? _Karabast_! I shouln’ta come on this kriffing mission.”

Kallus didn’t back down, instead stepping forward and getting in Zeb’s face. “Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have gotten Hera or Kanan. Someone with some _sense_ who doesn’t drive me up a wall!”

Zeb didn’t notice the way Kallus’s eyes widened after his outburst; he simply internalized the hurtful words. Thoroughly rebuffed, he reached back out to the holocron, intending to grab it, take it back to the ship, and wait for Kallus to finish up anything else. Spare the man his presence.

Kallus’s hand shot out to stop him.

At the same moment, both men touched the holocron.

A blinding light flashed in front of Zeb, followed shortly by darkness taking over his sight and his mind. He crumpled to the floor.

Kallus woke with a crushing headache. Everything hurt and nothing felt right. Nothing _smelled_ right, as odd as that was. He blinked his eyes open, noticing that the temple room seemed brighter than before. Perhaps the sun had moved to shine in through the door?

Bringing a hand up to rub at the headache in his forehead, he froze.

That wasn’t his hand.

It was a lasat hand: large, four-fingered, furry, and with claws.

Kallus sat up, staring at the bits of himself he could see – and what he saw was truly distressing. His body was now covered with tan fur and dark stripes. His _legs were digitigrade_. And a brief exploration of his face showed he no longer had a human nose or eyebrows.

_What in all the Sith Hells was going on?_

Pulling his eyes over from the impossible form of his own body, he looked where Zeb had been.

A muscular human male was there, sprawled out on the ground. His skin was darker than Kallus’s and seemed to have stripes – birthmarks? Tattoos? Kallus wasn’t sure. 

The human groaned and reached up to rub his head. As soon as he touched the short black hair, he jerked his hand back.

“ _Karabast_!” he said, scrambling to sit up while staring at his hand.

“Karabast indeed,” Kallus said, then clutched at his throat. His voice had come out deeper than normal.

The human – it had to be Zeb – looked over at Kallus and his eyes grew even wider, letting Kallus see they were a bright green. “Kriffing hells, what did I hit my head on? Am I–?”

Kallus found a growl rising from his throat – he didn’t know he could do that – and he said “I _told_ you not to touch that Jedi cube!”

Zeb bared his teeth at Kallus, something of an absurd move with a human mouth and no fangs with which to intimidate. “If you hadn’t been arguing with me, only one of us would have touched it! I bet this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Well, we touched it and _this_ –” Kallus gestured at his lasat body “–happened. I hope you’re happy.”

“I’m not.” Zeb poked at the skin on his arm. “I feel like everything’s about to break. How do you not fall apart?”

Kallus tried to surreptitiously copy Zeb’s movements, noting just how thick his skin now was under the fur – and how big his fingers were.

He wasn’t surreptitious enough. Zeb caught him testing his claws and laughed. “Watch those things. You’ll hurt yourself. Try retracting ‘em.”

“Retracting them?” Kallus knew lasats could retract their claws, but how did one go about doing that? What muscles were used? What would it feel like?

“Yeah. Like this.” Zeb held up his human hands and curled the fingers. He looked at them strangely. “Well, not exactly like that. Guess you don’t have the right stuff for claws.”

“Thank you,” said Kallus, trying not to panic or get angry. Instead, he was sarcastic. “That was a big help.”

Zeb grunted and tried to stand, but fell over nearly right away.

“Use your heels. Put your weight on your whole foot, not just the toes. And straighten your knees; it’ll hurt later otherwise.” The panic was winning; Kallus’s voice was tight and almost at his usual register as he offered help to Zeb.

He didn’t want to offer help to Zeb. It was Zeb’s fault they were in such a mess in the first place. He wanted to be mad at Zeb.

But he got a funny feeling deep down anytime he tried to direct his anger at Zeb. He found himself giving Zeb suggestions on standing and walking on human feet and legs instead.

“Kriff, this is weird. How do you do anything with feet and hands this small?” Zeb muttered, but he came over to Kallus and offered his hands.

Kallus looked at the proffered hands. “What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna need help gettin’ up, too. C’mon.”

Gently placing his large hands in Zeb’s much smaller ones, Kallus made a valiant effort to stand up, but ended up falling on his rear just as Zeb had. 

Thankfully, Zeb didn’t laugh. “Do the opposite of what you told me,” he instructed. “Use your toes. They’ll hold ya.”

Kallus bit his lip, feeling fangtips on the sides of his mouth, and put his hands in Zeb’s again. Under other circumstances, holding hands with Zeb might have been titillating, or at least cause for a stomach flutter.

At the moment, however? All Kallus wanted was to be able to stand so they could get to that damned holocron again and switch back.

He stood, eyes growing wide as he stood taller than he ever had before.

Zeb, on the other hand, was almost… _short_. Kallus would give him ‘average height’ if he were being nice. 

They spoke in unison.

“Karabast!”

“Kriff.”

Zeb eyed Kallus. “Yer tall for a human, so I guess yer a tall lasat, too.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kallus had known that Zeb was shorter than the other lasats he’d met, but it never really registered until he was looking down on Zeb from a good bit over two meters. He declined to mention it, however.

Kallus teetered a little on his toes and Zeb scooted forward to wrap an arm around Kallus’s waist and steady him.

“As much as I may appreciate you being lasat, Zeb, I’m not keen to be one myself. Let’s find that holocron and switch back.”

“Yep,” Zeb agreed. 

The holocron sat innocently on the altar still. Together, Zeb and Kallus walked up to it. Together, they reached out to touch it.

Nothing happened.

Whatever the holocron had done before, it was nothing but a decorative box at the moment.

Zeb held his breath, hoping that the holocron had a delayed reaction.

No such luck, of course.

“Karabast,” said Zeb, forlorn.

“You’re saying that a lot,” Kallus noted, irritation in his deep voice. “What does it even mean?”

He’d asked that before and Zeb hadn’t given him a straight answer. To be fair, Kallus had been clinging to Zeb for dear life at the time, so a linguistics lesson hadn’t seemed appropriate.

Zeb started to scratch at his ear, but his ear wasn’t there – it was smaller and flatter and rounder and on the side of his head. “It’s, uh, a question of honor. Callin’ someone a dirty liar, basic’ly. But works for just about anything.”

“A liar,” Kallus said, deadpan. “You use it all the time; who are you calling a liar?”

“Uh.” Zeb was caught off-guard. “The galaxy, I guess. It’s kinda a catch-all.” He shrugged.

Zeb tried to look at Kallus, but the temple had grown darker inside than it had been before. He’d have to wait until they got out in the sunlight to see. He wasn’t sure if humans just had worse eyesight than lasats or if the sun was setting already.

While Zeb debated, Kallus went to pick up the holocron, instead getting his claws caught in the cloth it sat on. A scowl crossed his face and he tried unsuccessfully to untangle himself.

Zeb gave serious thought to letting Kallus struggle, but something inside him couldn’t stand seeing Kallus so frustrated with himself. “Here,” he said, holding his – so _small_ – hands out to Kallus. “Let me help, Kal.”

It took them both longer than it should have, using unfamiliar hands with the wrong number of fingers, but finally they managed to work together. While Kallus talked Zeb through the motions, Zeb slowly gained fine motor control.

The strangest thing was feeling lasat fur against bare fingers. He’d heard his fur described as soft before, but couldn’t ever really feel it for himself – at least not to the extent human fingers could.

This human body was _so tiny_ , _so delicate_ , and _so kriffing sensitive_. His eyesight was worthless, as was his sense of smell, but the feel of his jumpsuit loose on his body? He’d never felt anything like it; it tickled every time he moved.

How the kark did humans get through a day – much less a fight or a battle – with such exposed skin?

It made Zeb feel all the more protective of the humans he knew, and Hera too, since she wasn’t all that different from a human. 

He finished untangling the cloth from Kallus’s claws but found himself loath to let go. Zeb glanced up and found Kallus looking down at him with a slight frown – more confused than anything. “You need to learn to control your claws. You’re like a kit with those things.”

“I would retract them if I knew how,” Kallus snapped. “But I don’t.”

Zeb tried not to react in surprise at the fact that Kallus actually confessed ignorance. Holding one of Kallus’s hands, he pressed on a claw, avoiding the sharp end, manually retracting it. “Do you feel that? The muscle in your arm?”

Repeating the motion with each finger, Zeb watched Kallus close his eyes – green now, not the familiar golden brown Zeb loved – and concentrate. He tensed and the claws suddenly retracted without Zeb’s help.

“There ya go,” he said. “You got it.”

Kallus practiced a few more times before retracting them completely. “That’s… strange,” he admitted.

“Yeah,” said Zeb, looking at his own hand, wiggling the fingers and trying to decide which one felt like the extra digit. “Look, Kal…”

“Yes?”

Zeb turned back to Kallus. It seemed like all of the man’s anger had drained out of him. Was he accepting their situation? 

Well, Zeb wasn’t. Not that there was anything wrong with being human, but _he wasn’t one_. He wanted to be lasat again, as quickly as possible. He grabbed the holocron from where it had fallen on the floor – bending over was an adventure in itself – and looked the thing over, turning it over in his hands and trying to find some sort of latch or switch to activate it.

There wouldn’t be one, he knew, but he had to _try_.

Kallus was staring at him and Zeb realized he’d trailed off without finishing his comment.

“We should keep this with us,” Zeb said quickly. “It might turn us back if we figure out how this happened.”

Kallus nodded and looked down, rubbing fingers down his clothes, tips of his claws tugging the fabric the slightest bit. “I think we should get back to the ship before I tear these.” He wouldn’t meet Zeb’s eyes. “We will probably need to swap clothes.”

“Prob’ly,” Zeb agreed. He moved next to Kallus again. “Lean on me if you need to.”

Kallus preemptively wrapped an arm around Zeb’s shoulder and Zeb bit his lip. He and Kallus hadn’t been this physically close since he forced the man to sit for a medic after escaping Atollon – and it _had_ to be under these circumstances. Why couldn’t he be holding Kallus when they were in their right bodies?

It had taken nearly half an hour to get Chopper to let them on the shuttle. Kallus had tried to reason with the droid – they were the only two lifeforms on the entire planet, of _course_ it was him and Zeb – but Chopper was finally convinced after Zeb pulled his bo-rifle and threatened to disintegrate the droid.

In the shuttle’s refresher, Kallus leaned on the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. His facial features were lasat; he’d known that intellectually, but _seeing_ it was something different. Where Zeb had his sideburns, Kallus had brown muttonchops that looked almost exactly they should and the tiniest hint of a beard. He had no head hair, just short fur with dark stripes framing his face.

Kallus had tried to take his human clothes off, but they were so tight the only way he could get them off was to shred them with his newfound claws. He stood in the refresher naked, trying not to look down. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t know what lasat anatomy looked like, including the sheathed cock. He’d done some research – for a potential medical emergency with Zeb, he swore – but somehow, the idea of looking at the real thing _on his own body_ made him nervous.

Alexsandr Kallus was not one to give into nerves, however. He’d worked with Inquisitors and Darth Vader, he’d commandeered Star Destroyers from their Admirals, he’d fought Jedi, _he’d spied for the Rebellion under Thrawn’s nose_. A Force-induced fiasco such as this should be nothing.

Steeling himself, Kallus looked.

Huh. So _that’s_ what a lasat looked like down there. It was a little disconcerting, not seeing a cock, knowing it was internal and not as external as he was used to.

Tentatively, he reached down and felt.

Oh, that was different. Kallus ran a finger along the opening of the slit, shuddering with pleasure at the feeling, marveling at the feel of the slick coating everything. A little more playing – it didn’t take much – and the head of his shaft was peeking out, a dark tan, but he was imagining a purple one instead.

Kallus stopped then. “ _Stars_ ,” he cursed softly. He didn’t need to think of Zeb. He wouldn’t think of Zeb. He–

–thought of Zeb, with a matching cock to the one emerging now. The color would be different, but the nubs along the shaft would be the same, as would the size and the slick covering it, negating the need for lube.

Kallus took himself in hand, gasping when the prickles of a million little furs touched the shaft. They caught in the slick, making his hand messy but oh, Kallus did _not_ care at that moment because it felt so good. 

In the back of his mind, the rational part of him pointed out that while sensitive, his human cock was even more so and wouldn’t he like to imagine all these furs touching him then?

It even tossed up a mental image of Kallus helping Zeb discover that same pleasure.

 _Kriff_. Kallus was lost now, pumping his hand along the shaft, his other hand covering his mouth to keep from crying out. After all, Zeb was just outside in the main part of the shuttle, waiting on Kallus to change into one of his jumpsuits.

Zeb shuffled awkwardly in the shuttle. He’d shut the ramp, trapping Chopper outside, because the karking droid kept pinching him with his manipulators as if he thought Zeb might change back.

Kallus was changing and Zeb didn’t quite know what to do. He could try on some of Kallus’s clothes, but he had the distinct feeling they’d be too long and too tight; the man had put on some weight since joining the Rebellion, but he wasn’t as bulky as Zeb seemed to be.

Jumpsuits for them both, then.

Zeb ran fingers through his hair – _hair_ – marveling at how it felt. It was softer than his beard, heavier than his fur, and longer. Long enough he could actually comb it one way or the other with his hand. His human beard and sideburns were a little wirier than the hair on his head, but not by much.

His hearing was nowhere near as sharp as it had been, but that didn’t stop Zeb from hearing the strangled noise coming from the refresher.

That sounded like….

A blush rose on Zeb’s cheeks, or at least that’s what he supposed it was: warmth, almost a burning sensation, and completely different to how it felt when his fur rippled in embarrassment.

That noise had sounded like… well, like Kallus was doing a little exploration. Was– was Kallus in there pleasuring himself? With Zeb right out here?

Zeb stared at the door until he realized that his human parts – the bits he’d been so resolutely ignoring but felt every kriffing time he took a step in this loose jumpsuit – were reacting to the sound Kallus made.

 _Zeb_ was reacting to the sound Kallus made.

He brushed down the jumpsuit, intending to try and calm himself down, but he almost cried out himself.

Even through clothes, his new cock was _sensitive._ The barest touch and he’d felt pleasure shoot through his body.

Was that what humans felt all the time? Did Kallus walk around having to deal with _this_ constantly? How did any human with a dick get anything done?

Zeb was hard now, so hard it almost hurt and every move he made just made it worse. He _had_ to do something about it.

Kallus was in the refresher, though, and could walk out any minute.

Chopper was outside and there was no way in the seven Corellian hells that he was going out there in such a state.

That left the cockpit, which at least had a door.

Whimpering, Zeb made his way there, shedding his jumpsuit as soon as he locked the door behind him. Spreading his legs, he slid down the wall until he was seated, feeling lightheaded, as if he’d lost all blood pressure to his brain.

Kriff, maybe he had. His cock was bigger than he’d expected for a human, but he had to admit the only ones he’d ever seen were Kanan and Ezra’s in the sorts of accidents that happened when you lived in close quarters with only one refresher. He’d never seen an erect one.

Well, now Zeb was looking at one. He was feeling one, too.

Carefully, still holding his fingers as if he had claws and not these blunt nails, he wrapped them around his shaft.

It was dry. He wasn’t used to that. It was also stiff but had some squishiness to it, making it easy to stroke. 

Each stroke was like a new world opening up to Zeb. He couldn’t help the gasps and hitches of breath and whimpers he made, even knowing that Kallus could probably hear him.

Zeb ran a finger over the head and about vibrated out of his skin. That was– that was something else. That was the most amazing sensation he’d ever felt in his life.

He couldn’t imagine what it might feel like to fuck someone with a dick like this.

No wonder humans were always distracted by the idea of sex, if it felt so good.

It didn’t take long for Zeb to come to climax, stroking the shaft until he spilled over onto his fingers, a small amount of milky white come – well, small compared to a lasat. He supposed it was normal for a human.

The amount of come wasn’t what was amazing, however. That _orgasm_ , though…

Zeb had not been prepared for it. His whole body shuddered as he came, every tense muscle going weak, and his heart throbbing. He knew he made noises, but there was no way he could have stopped himself.

He slumped back against the wall, breathing heavily, and tried to regain his composure.

It didn’t come easily.

“ _Karabast_.”

Kallus froze when he heard Zeb cry out. Was he hurt? Was he–

There was the sound of the cockpit door closing and whimpers.

Oh.

Zeb was doing the same thing he was.

That thought stirred Kallus to greater speeds with his strokes. Closing his eyes, he imagined Zeb facing him, foreheads touching, both men touching themselves, both men caught up in their own pleasure. And then, maybe, Zeb’s hand on Kallus’s dick, or Zeb’s mouth or Zeb’s…

Kallus moaned at the filthy thoughts racing through his mind, spurring him on and on towards climax. In the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn’t be thinking of his friend that way, but it was too late; the image of Zeb – lasat Zeb – spread out before him was entrenched in his brain and not going anywhere.

The feel of fur against his cock as he fucked his hand got smoother and silkier as the slick coated the individual hairs. Kallus had nothing to compare the feeling to, and it drove his crazy trying to wrangle his mind enough to _think_ while still hearing the noises Zeb was making in the cockpit.

“Oh, _stars_ ,” he said, gripping the metal sink tightly with his free hand, holding himself up even though his legs were trembling. The nubs hardened under his fingers, providing more friction and texture; it was such a new feeling that Kallus didn’t know what to do with it.

Kallus could feel climax getting closer and closer and – the sink dented under his weight and the strength of his grip – and _there_.

Gasping, Kallus rode out the orgasm. Every hair on his body stood on edge, every extremity tingled. The actual sensation was more muted than Kallus was used to, but lasted longer, the prolonged feeling of come spurting out of him an adequate trade. _Stars_ , that felt good.

And the _come_. Kriff, how was he going to get this much come cleaned up before Zeb caught him? Most of the thick lilac spend was on his chest, a sticky feeling in his fur, but some had gotten on his chin.

He looked in the mirror and it was only then that he realized the damage he’d done to the refresher. Swearing to himself, Kallus attempted to straighten the metal, but only did more damage. Finally he took a step back, glancing in the mirror again.

Kallus looked totally debauched, with come still dripping down his chest and his cock slowly retreating into the slit, leaving behind sticky slick.

There was nothing for it. He’d have to get in the shower, maybe even use some of their water reserves.

Ashamed at how easily he’d been distracted by his new body, Kallus used the foaming soap to lather up and then turned on the water in the shower stall.

Something about his shame bothered him. Something wasn’t right.

Kallus considered it. He was in a completely unprecedented situation with Zeb. Was he ashamed because Zeb might have heard him? 

Not really.

Was he ashamed because he’d been imagining Zeb and what Zeb might look like as a lasat?

Yes, but while he knew he shouldn’t have imagined Zeb when the man would never reciprocate, that wasn’t what really bothered him.

What else was shameful? Was it the fact he was supposed to have more self-control than that?

Ah, that was more like it.

Kallus scrubbed his body clean while also castigating his mind. He’d shed a lot of his Imperial biases and beliefs, but apparently his purported superiority hadn’t been one of them. He still fully believed he – with all his experience – was supposed to be _better_ than an ordinary man.

And, to his continuing shame, better than an ordinary Rebel.

Including Zeb.

Leaning against the shower wall, Kallus closed his eyes as the chilly water ran over him, soaking newfound fur. It was a wonder Zeb put up with him at all, if he still had such an Imperial mindset.

“Kriff it, Alexsandr,” he muttered. “This is something you _are_ supposed to be better than.” He owed Zeb more than the way he’d been treating him, especially if he wanted to keep the man’s friendship. While he didn’t believe holding himself to high standards was a bad thing in and of itself, it _was_ if it let him feel superior to the Rebels he worked with, including the Spectres.

Zeb might not’ve realized it, but Kallus owed him an apology.

Cleanup as a human was fairly easy, Zeb discovered, so he chalked one up in the ‘positives of being human’ column. Once he was dressed and proper again, he stepped out of the cockpit, hoping the smell of sex would dissipate before Kallus got out of the refresher.

Thankfully, the shower was running, so he was safe for the moment.

Zeb found the scanner and searched for the second locator beacon they’d registered. This first stop had – obviously – not been the weapons drop, unless someone thought the holocron was a weapon.

Of course, picking up the weapons drop meant they would need to head back to Yavin IV and Zeb wasn’t sure he wanted to go looking like a human. There would be far too many questions he didn’t have the answer to; he doubted Kallus had the answers either.

The second beacon was on the other side of the planet, on an even smaller island. Zeb watched the rotating image of Rakata Prime, thinking, until Kallus emerged from the refresher, wearing one of Zeb’s jumpsuits and with his fur still wet despite the towel in his hand.

Zeb flicked off the scanner and stood. “You need help,” he said.

Kallus looked perturbed, but some of that was his wet fur sticking out every which way like a terrified kit. Zeb managed not to laugh as he grabbed a second towel – missing it on the first swipe, still expecting his hand to be bigger.

“Roll down the jumpsuit,” Zeb instructed. “I’ll get your back and you can get the front.”

A moment of obvious panic later, Kallus acquiesced and rolled the jumpsuit off his shoulders.

Zeb felt his heart drop at Kallus’s discomfort. He didn’t want Kallus to be so uncomfortable around him; they’d had a good sort of camaraderie before, so what had happened?

Alternately rubbing the towel on Kallus’s fur and using his fingers to straighten that fur out, Zeb helped Kallus dry off. It’d have been easier if he’d remembered to use the air jets in the refresher’s shower, but towels worked too.

Towels also felt better, especially with someone helping, Zeb knew, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard a throaty purr come out of Kallus.

 _Kallus_ was surprised, however. Zeb could hear him try to stop it, see him clutching at his chest, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from, seemingly completely unaware that his ears were flicking forward and back uncontrollably.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Happens sometimes. Yer just like an extra large kit right now; got no control of anything. Purring is fine. It feels good, I know.”

Kallus’s fur prickled in embarrassment. “Zeb, I–”

“It’s okay, Kal.”

“No.” Kallus stood up straight. “No, things aren’t ‘okay’ and I need to apologize.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Zeb asked. “We both touched the holocron.”

“Not that.” Kallus shook his head and continued in that deep rumbly bass, so reminiscent of his Fulcrum transmissions, “Zeb, I’ve been a bad friend to you when you’ve been nothing but kind.”

Zeb froze. “What do you mean?” he asked again, speaking slowly and clearly, mind racing through the very scenarios he’d argued against: Kallus being an Imp spy, Kallus selling the Rebellion’s secrets.

“I mean that I’ve held on to some of my Imperial habits.” Kallus sighed. “And one of them is still thinking that I’m better – smarter, more capable, more in control – than the people in the Rebellion, you included. I have believed that I’ve always _been_ better. That I’ve always demonstrated that with my actions. That I’d _earned_ my place among the best.”

Breathing again, Zeb nodded. He’d known that much. The way Kallus treated him in the temple before they touched the holocron was proof of that. But despite Kallus’s phrasing, he wasn’t prepared for the man’s next words.

“I was wrong and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“What’s ‘everything’, Kal?” he asked cautiously.

Kallus straightened up and the purr vanished, though his ears still seemed to be out of direct control. “First and foremost, Lasan. Even as ISB, that never sat right with me. I knew how to weaponize it to do my job, and I did that when it came to you, but I have _always_ regretted my participation.” He folded his towel nervously over and over.

Zeb just waited.

“I was young, fresh from the Academy. Onderon had just happened and I was terrified of lasats. That’s not an excuse, though, and I know you’ve said you put Lasan behind you, but I haven’t. I’m sorry, Zeb. I can never atone for that, I know.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Zeb found he didn’t know what to say. He’d lied when he said Lasan was behind him; Lasan would always churn in his heart, an open wound that might never heal. He’d never gotten an _apology_ for it, though.

Zeb sat down on the bench seats. Kallus rolled his jumpsuit up before continuing. He stood before Zeb, head down, hands clasped, looking utterly contrite.

“I’m sorry for chasing you and your family, trying to capture or kill you. Even though that’s what led us both to Bahryn, I’m still so very sorry I tried to hurt you.”

“You’re sorry?” It wasn’t the right response, Zeb knew, but it was all that came out. He was just lucky it didn’t sound sarcastic.

Kallus nodded sadly. “I know you can’t forgive me, but I needed to apologize anyway.”

Zeb thought the apologies were sincere, but he had to check. “You’re not just saying this because you are physically a lasat right now. That doesn’t give you any insight into what it’s been like to actually be one.”

The look Kallus gave Zeb was full of terrified sorrow, though Zeb didn’t know what he feared. “I don’t– I’m not trying to insinuate that. I just needed to let you know that I do feel sorry about everything. I also realize I’m in your debt and have been since Bahryn. I haven’t been good at showing that, however.”

Crossing his arms and biting his lip with blunt teeth, Zeb considered Kallus.

Deep inside, he’d always wanted to hear the words: ‘I’m sorry for Lasan’, but he’d assumed the only apology he’d ever receive was the half-assed one from Bahryn.

Zeb wanted to forgive Kallus, to say none of that mattered because of the man he’d become, but as Kallus himself pointed out, he had still been prejudiced without meaning to be, had still perpetrated a massacre on Lasan. Forgiveness for all that shouldn’t be as easy as just asking for it, should it?

At a loss for anything else to do, Zeb stood and walked to the small galley opposite the refresher. “Anything I need to know about eating as a human?” he asked.

Disappointment tinging his voice, Kallus said, “Nothing too particular. Just don’t take huge bites like you normally do.”

Zeb managed to cobble together dinner from their supplies while Kallus let Chopper back into the ship. While Zeb cooked, Kallus crouched down and had a conversation with Chopper, trying to persuade him not to take holos or recordings of their switched species bodies. From the sound of things, Kallus was only partially successful.

By the time the food was ready and Zeb handed Kallus a bowl, Kallus was exasperated with Chopper and happy to leave the droid to his own devices.

“Careful with the fork,” Zeb warned. “They’re easy to drop ‘cause they’re so small.”

Over dinner, they decided to stay near the Jedi Temple until they ran out of time, just in case the Force opted to change them back. The rest of the night was spent piddling around the shuttle: checking scanners, looking at the engines, planning the route out of the Lehon system, and other menial tasks until it was time to sleep.

Kallus felt better after apologizing earlier, though he was prepared to do it again and again until Zeb either forgave him or rebuffed him, but the fact he’d been imagining Zeb while jerking off still bothered him.

He sat on the bench that was his bunk for the trip and stared at his four-fingered hands, practicing retracting the claws a few more times.

Zeb ignored him and stretched out on his bench, rolled with his back to Kallus.

That hurt. Kallus hadn’t expected Zeb to fall in his arms, but he had hoped the status quo would have been maintained.

Kallus turned the lights off to be polite, but didn’t go to sleep. When it seemed Zeb had been still long enough to have fallen asleep, Kallus tried to purr again. 

The sensation had been… comforting. Pleasant. Soothing. He wanted to experience it again.

So he tried to replicate it, very poorly. His attempts sounded more like gargling.

“It’s in your chest, not your throat,” mumbled Zeb, rolling back over.

Kallus froze. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Nah, I was awake.” Zeb swung his legs and sat up, facing Kallus in the dark shuttle. “I was thinkin’ about your apology.”

Kallus hung his head. “It’s fine if you don’t want to accept it.”

“No, it’s not fine.” Zeb sounded put out. “It’s just gonna take me a bit because I never expected one from you.”

Kallus frowned at the floor. “You thought I’d never be sorry for what I did?”

“Well, most of what you did as an Imp, you put behind you. Why was Lasan any different than Lothal or Teralov or Ralltiir or any other planet you were assigned to?”

“Because _you_ were on Lasan,” Kallus said, looking up, imagining he could see the green of Zeb’s eyes in the illumination from door control panels. His eyes were better as a lasat, so he could see Zeb somewhat, but not completely. 

Zeb was still, waiting for him to continue.

Kallus swallowed, bracing himself to keep going. “Because I’ve taken advantage of you in nearly every way possible, from your hospitality and goodwill to your patience.”

“You aren’t the only Imperial who defected, Kal. You’re mixin’ in with the Rebels just fine.”

Kallus shook his head. “Not _their_ patience. _You_ , Zeb. I want to spend my time with you and you allow it. Even after all I’ve done, you’re friendly with me and–”

“And what?” Zeb sounded genuinely curious.

“And I’ve let myself entertain ideas of the two of us in different circumstances. Together.”

There was silence for a moment, then, “Oh,” followed by a snort of laughter.

Kallus felt like he’d been slapped. His ears lay flat against his head and he tried to shrink in on himself.

Zeb stood and walked across the shuttle, teetering a little in the dark, stopping only when he was practically between Kallus’s legs. Positioned like that, he was just a bit taller than the seated Kallus, who was forced to look up at him.

“You’re really sorry for everything you mentioned?”

“Yes,” said Kallus softly.

“And you’re _sorry_ that you _like_ me.”

Kallus nodded, not meeting Zeb’s eyes.

“Kriffing idiot,” Zeb said.

Kallus’s eyes shot back to meet Zeb’s, shocked.

“I’ve only been sittin’ over here since Atollon, thinkin’ _you_ could never like _me_ as more than a friend.” Zeb bent down just a bit, and Kallus felt the odd sensation of their cheeks rubbing, their facial hair catching on the other’s, and– oh, their scents.

A new, delicious scent filled the air around Kallus as Zeb repeated his actions on the other side.

“Zeb, that smells, well, wonderful, but… what are you doing?” Kallus asked.

Zeb chuckled. “Scenting you. Any being with a decent nose will know we’ve been together.”

“That’s what lasats do?” Kallus’s eyes were almost unfocused, but a moment later he zeroed in on Zeb’s face. “This is what humans do.”

Wrapping his hand around the back of Zeb’s head, Kallus pulled him in for a kiss. His anxiety protested as their lips touched, but Kallus beat it back because _wow_ that felt good, even if it was weird not to have to think about where his nose was. 

And then he opened his mouth, inviting Zeb in. Somehow, in that moment, he no longer felt confused about Zeb. He needed Zeb in his life. He wanted to spend all his time kissing Zeb like this. He… he might actually _love_ Zeb.

It took a minute, but Zeb got the hang of things. He rubbed his tongue over Kallus’s fangs and Kallus bit down just a little, thinking he’d like to experience that someday, from the human side of things.

Zeb brought his hands up to Kallus’s face, running his thumbs over his cheeks.

It felt so good, but Kallus pulled back a few centimeters. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Checking that you’re still lasat,” Zeb said, a little bit of joking in his voice. “Missing being one. But really curious as to what sex as a human is like.”

Kallus’s eyes widened.

“If you’re game.” Zeb kept running delicate fingers over Kallus’s skull, finding soft, sensitive spots Kallus hadn’t known existed. The tips of his ears, for one, and the base of his skull, for another. “I don’t think you heard me properly before, if the idea of sex shocks you. I wanna kriff you, Alexsandr Kallus, and I have for a long time. That’s what the scenting meant.”

Somehow, Kallus hadn’t thought through to the inevitable conclusion of what he’d started. His brain had stopped the moment it thought of love.

Did he want to sleep with Zeb? Oh yes. While their species were reversed, though…?

Zeb scoffed when he mentioned that issue. “Can’t tell me yer not curious,” he said with a grin.

That was true. Kallus was curious. He also wanted to show Zeb all the little ways being a human felt _so good._

Just thinking about that had him peeking out of the slit again. 

Kallus reached out and pulled Zeb closer, into another kiss. He slid two fingers down Zeb’s front, garnering a gasp from the man as Kallus cupped him through his clothing.

Zeb started to undo his jumpsuit, but stopped. “Where’s Chopper?” he asked.

“In the cockpit, powered down for the night,” said Kallus, slightly perturbed to be interrupted.

Zeb nodded. “Good.” He slipped out of his clothes and stood there, hands on his hips as if he had no cares in the world.

It was a very tempting picture. Kallus hurried to join him, though he was more clumsy getting his jumpsuit off.

“You sure you want to do this?” Kallus asked.

“I’m sure,” Zeb said. “I’m sure I want you in me.”

Kallus groaned; the idea of spreading Zeb wide enough to take a lasat cock was almost as intoxicating as the idea of _taking_ a lasat cock. “You’re going to have to prepare yourself,” Kallus said, looking at his hands. “My fingers are too big right now.”

Zeb reached out and stroked Kallus’s cock, collecting slick on his fingers. Kallus shuddered through the feeling. 

“I wanna hear you talk me through it,” Zeb said, lying down on the cold shuttle floor, exposing himself to Kallus. “I wanna hear something other than prim and proper from your mouth.”

Kallus’s fur bristled in what he assumed was the equivalent of a blush. He quickly shunted away that embarrassment, determined to give Zeb exactly what he wanted.

“One finger, then,” Kallus said. “Slowly. Wait to relax. Once you’re far enough in, you can touch your prostate. Try doing that and seeing what it feels like.”

Zeb gasped and his whole body shook. “Karabast!”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kallus knelt on the floor between Zeb’s legs and leaned over his so that he could whisper into Zeb’s ear directly. “Second finger now. It’ll feel even better.”

Zeb bit his lip and whimpered, almost stopping what he was doing. 

Kallus decided to take over. Running his fingers over his dripping cock, he slid his finger inside Zeb, knowing that just one of his fingers was the size of an average human dick. He could fill Zeb this way, bring him to completion.

But he wasn’t going to.

With a kiss to Zeb’s forehead as he shuddered, Kallus gently inserted a second finger, wondering what the feeling of fur against Zeb’s prostate must be.

Kallus intended to find out if they ever got back to normal. 

Zeb relaxed around his fingers and nodded to Kallus. 

“You sure?” Kallus asked one more time.

“Yes! I need you in me, Kal. Karabast, stop asking!”

Kallus smiled. It wouldn’t stop him asking, but at least he knew Zeb was enthusiastic this time.

Slowly, almost too slowly, Kallus entered Zeb, taking care to make sure Zeb was prepared properly for a lasat-sized cock.

Zeb shook with pleasure as he was filled.

This was another human thing he hadn’t expected. He’d heard that the prostate was a pleasure organ, but he hadn’t imagined just _how much_ pleasure he’d get from it. Lasats who enjoyed anal sex enjoyed the feeling of being filled and of movement, but they didn’t have a prostate located where it could be touched.

 _Force_ , if fucking something felt as good as being fucked, Zeb couldn’t figure out why humans didn’t just have sex all the time.

Zeb reached down to touch himself, but Kallus grabbed his hand.

“Don’t come yet,” Kallus instructed, gently, voice shaky too. “I want you in me next.”

Oh, stars.

And then Kallus shifted inside him. Slowly, tenderly, with care, but it drew a shuddering cry from Zeb’s throat.

Zeb started talking as Kallus moved, long-unused Lasana, words of affection, gentle words and filthy words both. He knew there was no way Kallus knew what he was saying, but that didn’t stop him.

“ _Fuck me harder, Kal. I want you inside me forever. I want your seed in me. You fill me so well, I want you to be mine, I don’t ever want to let you go. Please, Kal, stay with me and screw me senseless every night…_ ”

“Whatever you’re asking me to do,” panted Kallus, obviously coming close to climax. “I’ll do it. But first, am I coming inside you or not?”

Zeb didn’t know if his human body could handle as much come as Kallus was going to have, but he wanted to try. “In me,” he gasped.

Kallus nodded, hips shuddering as he came close. Moments later, he was warning Zeb.

Come filled him, spilled out of him around Kallus’s cock. Zeb could almost have collapsed then and there for the night, but his own cock was still achingly hard.

While Kallus rode out his orgasm, Zeb stroked his chest, his sides, his arms: all places he himself loved to be touched and petted. It seemed Kallus was no different, because the purr started up again.

Zeb smiled. “Good, Kal, that’s it. Breathe. You didn’t knot this time, but it’s a possibility next time.”

“Knot?” Kallus managed to look surprised. “Oh, we are trying that when I’m human again,” he muttered.

Zeb’s grin widened.

Kallus pulled out of Zeb, come and slick sliding out, too. Zeb swiped up some of the mixture and coated his own cock with it, knowing that sex this way, at least, would require lube. 

“Lie down,” Zeb instructed. “My turn.”

Kallus lay face down on the floor next to him. Despite the deep, sweet soreness he felt, Zeb got to his knees – awkwardly as he was still trying to compensate for plantigrade legs – and prepped Kallus to take him; a process not nearly so involved as it had been for Zeb. 

“I’m ready,” Kallus said, voice pitched as Zeb moved fingers inside him.

Zeb swallowed in anticipation. Time to see if fucking as a human was as good as the masturbation promised.

It was.

Oh it was.

Zeb moved inside Kallus, unable to keep from gasping and groaning in pleasure. Zeb practically saw stars and his entire body lit up with stimulation. It was almost like any touch would set him off. Kallus seemed to be enjoying it, too, pushing back against Zeb on each stroke, but his whimpers were nothing compared to Zeb’s.

“Kal,” Zeb panted, coming to a realization, one he’d known all along. He loved fucking and being fucked by Kallus, but that wasn’t all he wanted. That wasn’t all he felt. He’d known it, but tried to deny it, but now it seemed there might be reciprocation from Kallus. “ _L’ashkerrir an._ ”

“Zeb,” moaned Kallus. “Whatever you say, Zeb, just please don’t stop.”

Zeb felt his climax approaching and warned Kallus. “Inside you?” he managed to ask.

“Yes, please, Zeb!”

And then it was too late: Zeb shot come while sheathed inside Kallus, crying out as he felt the same sort of all-body orgasm as before, but more intense because it was with _Kallus_. It was indescribable, the ecstasy he felt, like he was floating.

He fell limply on top of Kallus’s back, lying there for a minute before rolling off onto his back.

Kallus turned his head to look at Zeb. “What was that you were saying? I haven’t had the opportunity to learn Lasana, but I recognized it.”

A chill ran down Zeb’s back. “It was nothing,” he lied.

Kallus propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Zeb without much fire. “It was _something_.”

Zeb stared at the ceiling, debating telling Kallus the truth.

They’d just confessed attraction. They’d just had sex for the first time. It wasn’t time for him to admit anything else, was it?

But Kallus had been brave enough to say he was attracted to Zeb. Had said he pictured them together.

That was more than just friends-with-benefits, more than casual partners, wasn’t it?

“I said I love you,” he mumbled, as softly as he could.

“What was that?” Kallus asked, gently prompting him.

Zeb buried his face in his hands. “I said I love you, Kal.”

Silence.

Zeb braced himself for a kind let-down or indignation or anger or anything but the answer he got.

“I– I love you, too,” said Kallus, sounding surprised. “But Zeb, are you sure?”

Zeb laughed roughly. “How many times are you going to ask me that tonight, Kal? Yes, I’m sure. Yes, I’ve known this for a while. I just thought you–”

“You thought I what?”

“You were raised on Imperial Center. You were one for so long. I thought for sure you could never look twice at a lasat, or any non-human.” Zeb peeked through his fingers at Kallus.

Kallus nodded. “A reasonable assumption,” he said. “But completely wrong. Zeb, I’ve been head over heels for you this whole time, trying to keep my distance because I don’t deserve–”

“Kriff what you deserve,” Zeb said, pulling his hands from his face. “If I love you and you love me, then what else matters?”

Kallus was quiet again. “The reactions of your crew. The war and if we survive it or not. Whether or not you can ever forgive me for what I did.”

“Shut up,” Zeb said, maneuvering himself so he could kiss Kallus again. “None of that really matters. My family’ll support me whatever; they’ve already been teasing me about you. And we’ll both survive this war, or we’ll both go out fighting together.”

“And forgiving me?”

Zeb leaned down, touching foreheads tenderly. “I accept your apologies, Alexsandr Kallus.” He thought of Lira San and the millions of lasats living there. “I forgive you.”

When Zeb kissed Kallus next, Kallus’s foot shot out and hit the bench seats.

The holocron fell to the ground from a top shelf.

Instinctively, both men reached to pick it up, and as soon as they touched it, a blinding light filled Zeb’s vision once more.

Kallus woke – again – with a pounding headache, this one not helped by the beeps and warbles of Chopper, who was poking him with a manipulator and telling him to get up, it was morning.

Looking around, he realized he was on the ground in the shuttle and–

And next to him was a purple lasat.

Kallus looked down at himself and he was, indeed, human again. Naked, but so was Zeb and it wasn’t like that was a problem now, was it?

“Zeb!” he hissed, bumping Zeb with a fist until the lasat stirred.

“Whazzat?” he slurred sleepily.

“Zeb, we’re back in our own bodies!”

Zeb’s eyes shot open and he sat up. “About kriffing time!” he said, smiling. “What did it?”

Kallus eyed the holocron warily. “Well, we were arguing when we first touched it.”

“And we definitely weren’t arguing when we touched it again,” Zeb finished. “Huh. A relationship holocron.”

Kallus laughed, an almost giddy noise. “We’re ourselves again.” And based on the wonderful ache he felt between his legs, he hadn’t dreamed the sex the night before.

And if he hadn’t dreamed the sex, then…

“Did you really say that?” he asked Zeb, trusting the man – his lover, now – to know what he meant.

“I did,” Zeb replied. “And so did you.”

Kallus got to his knees and dug in the storage space underneath the closest bench seat, pulling out clothes. “In that case, I’m going to get a shower,” he proclaimed. With a wink, he added, “You can come, too, Garazeb.”

“That kind of shower?” Zeb asked.

“Only if you want,” Kallus said, suddenly afraid he’d overstepped.

Zeb got to his feet and helped Kallus stand. They stared at each other, each at their proper heights. Zeb ran his fingers through Kallus’s mussed, greasy hair and smiled. “I want,” he said.

“Good,” Kallus said, taking Zeb by the hand and leading him off to the refresher. 

Chopper warbled at him before he closed the refresher door.

“What is it?” he asked the droid.

Chopper projected a small holo image of Kallus and Zeb in their swapped bodies, obviously taken when they’d tried to convince him of their identities.

“Keep that to yourself, Chopper, please,” Kallus said.

The image changed to a recording of Kallus fucking Zeb.

“Chopper,” came a low growly voice from behind Kallus. “You delete that or I’m leaving you on Rakata Prime when we go.”

A sharp blat said what Chopper thought of that.

Zeb growled, but Kallus held him back. 

“Reason first,” he said. “Chopper, what will it take for you to delete those images?”

The image changed a third time, this time showing an astromech ambulatory strut.

Kallus sighed. “Next time we’re at a port with a droid repair shop, Zeb and I will buy you a new leg. Is that fair?”

Chopper whined a bit, but finally made an approving noise. The holo image disappeared.

“And you really trust that wheeled menace to delete them?” Zeb asked, pulling Kallus into the refresher.

“I think we’re at his mercy.” Kallus turned on the sonic and stepped in.

Zeb reached in and switched it to water, leaving Kallus a soaking mess. The lasat grinned as Kallus protested. 

“You had some fun in here with water last night,” Zeb said. “And I want you to show me what you did.”

Kallus smiled wickedly. “If you insist, my dear.”

Zeb hummed. “‘My dear’? I like it.”

“Good, because you’re going to hear a lot of it,” Kallus said, tugging Zeb under the shower with him. 

Zeb nuzzled his hair. “I sure hope so.” He paused. “Do you think you would have ever said anything if we hadn’t been changed?”

Kallus looked up. “Would you have?”

“No,” Zeb admitted. “I’d’ve probably still been pining over you. And you’d be stewing in your own guilt, huh?”

Kallus offered a half-smile. “To tell the truth, I probably still will. I have to forgive _myself_.”

Zeb gathered Kallus in his arms. “We’ll work through it together,” he promised.

Cheeks coloring, Kallus marveled again at the kindness of this lasat. Zeb had said ‘we’ and ‘together’ when it was all Kallus’s problem.

He’d also said ‘forgive’.

Kallus wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve a lover like Garazeb Orrelios, but he was going to do everything in his power to keep him. Starting with showing off his lack of a gag reflex there in the shower.

Weapons drops and holocrons and missions would just have to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as always, to the most amazing beta, WhiplashCrash.
> 
> The definition of ‘Karabast’ is thanks to Anath_Tsurugi, as is "L'ashkerrir an" or "I love you" in Lasana.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr and flail over Rebels and Kalluzeb! [hixystix](https://hixystix.tumblr.com/) is my main blog, and [x-wing-junkie](https://x-wing-junkie.tumblr.com/) is my _Star Wars_ blog. New friends always welcome!


End file.
